They can't even crawl; they're above ground and heaping;
My gutted cars on blocks seep.
I look at the ground and I see oil leaks seeping;
My gutted cars cannot creep.

When they first died, I could have sold you
The whole slew, they'd have run.
But I was ploughed and I corholed Sue,
My trusty old ewe.

I look at the wheels and notice they're not turning;
My gutted cars on blocks sleep.
I drink up every penny that I was earning;
Rotgut scarfed on welfare's cheap.

Onto the ground, lot's of oil's squirted;
It's been diverted to
A creek that's brown; it's been converted
To a bum-wort-fed* loo.

I've nooked in them all, in back seats I've been sleeping
With cousin Char and my sheep.
We have had a ball,
With Char done up as Bo Peep.

[Fade on moaning and bleating]


*wort: sweet liquid drained from mash and fermented into beer or whisky; pronounced "wurt"